


Romantic Rivals

by Neyiea



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch is pretty popular, Sandy is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romantic Rivals

Sandy is making his nightly rounds, smiling serenely as he weaves an infinite amount of dreams together and sends them to the sleeping children of the world. His smile widens when he catches movement from the shadows and he lowers his cloud to the ground. Pitch and himself had struck up a truce a few years back, tentative at first, but they get along rather well now and sometimes the Nightmare King likes to visit.

Sure enough Pitch steps out of the shadows and glances in his direction, but instead of responding to Sandy's cheery wave he sends a worried look over his shoulder.

Sandy's smile vanishes as something follows Pitch from the darkness and his eyes narrow when Pitch takes a cautious step away from the woman that appears. She is beautiful, if not very serpentine in appearance. Sandy's sure he's seen her somewhere before, but he is less concerned about where he knows her from and more about how uncomfortable the Boogeyman looks.

"Pitch," she all but hisses, "I do not understand. Why do you not accept my offer?"

"Lamia," Pitch begins softly, creeping ever closer to Sandy's side. Lamia? _The child eater?_ Sandy carefully steels himself, ready for a fight. "I would love to, really, but there's someone else."

"Who?" She demands.

Pitch darts to the side and pulls Sandy off of his cloud and into a tight embrace. Sandy thinks he'd enjoy the hug if he weren't so confused.

"The Sandman?" She asks incredulously. 

Pitch nods and holds Sandy tighter, tucking Sandy's head under his chin.

"It's very serious, so I'm afraid there's no way I could accept your offer."

Lamia hisses in irritation. "You do not suit each other. Come to me when you've come back to your senses."

She slips into shadows and Pitch immediately relaxes his grip. Sandy pokes at him and raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

Pitch lets him go completely. "I am sorry Sandy, but she wouldn't leave me alone! And you were very conveniently here."

Sandy pokes him harder, that didn't answer his question.

"Lamia has been pursuing me for several months now. She decided that, since I wasn't responding to her advances, she had to be more... Forward."

Sandy blinks and slowly turns to the patch of shadows she had disappeared in. He feels oddly angry that someone would try and pursue a romantic relationship with Pitch.

"Thankfully you were here. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't."

Sandy puffs up, full of pride that he was able to help, and there's another, smaller part of him that's pleased Lamia hadn't called Pitch out on his lie. He boldly assures Pitch that he's safe from her advances and Pitch chuckles dryly in response.

"I suppose that is at least one less person to worry about."

Sandy deflates slightly. There are more spirits after Pitch?

Pitch nods and rubs at his temples wearily before sitting down next to Sandy on his cloud. "Ever since I came out of hiding again other immortals have been approaching me. It was flattering at first, all the attention, but now it's just a nuisance."

Sandy feels a not entirely unexpected spike of jealousy, even though it's clear that Pitch finds their advances annoying.

"I've turned them all down gently, but it seems to have devolved into some sort of competition for my hand." Pitch snorts. "They're like knights fighting over who gets to marry the poor princess who's been kept inside her entire life."

Normally Sandy would be all too happy to point out that Pitch had compared himself to a princess, maybe craft him a sand tiara, but he was too busy feeling angry. How dare these spirits continue after Pitch even after he'd rejected their advances! Pitch wasn't just going to change his mind because they kept trying to court him.

He hopefully informs Pitch that maybe Lamia will spread word of their apparent relationship and everyone else will take a respectful step back.

"I doubt it," Pitch sighs, "still, Lamia was one of the most demanding, at least I won't have to worry about her anymore." His eyes slowly move over to Sandy and he smiles crookedly. "It seems as though you're my knight in shining armour. Thank you again."

Sandy is ready to sign a quick 'you're welcome', but freezes when he feels a pair of lips brush against his forehead.

"Goodnight, Sandy." Pitch bids softly before he too disappears into shadow.

Sandy very slowly brings his hand up to his forehead, heart beating wildly.

Well, he'd had his suspicious, but this clinches it. It also explains the anger and jealousy he'd been feeling. Sandy is nothing if not true to himself, so he knows he's not going to be able to brush these feelings aside, but Pitch has too much going on right now to worry about another person trying to woo him.

Well then, he'll just have to help Pitch get rid of his unwanted suitors, which is something he suspects he'll enjoy.

He smirks.

Usually he and Pitch work in different Latitudes so that, even though they're in the same time zone, they don't come across each other on the job. It's not precisely that they don't like watching each other work, but sometimes it's best if they can ignore the fact that they are on opposite sides of the spectrum. Whenever Pitch comes around for a visit he's generally done spreading nightmares, at least for a little while. Their usual routine isn't quite going to cut it anymore.

He tries not to be too obvious about it, doesn't think breathing down Pitch's neck will do him any good, but the Nightmare King definitely notices his new habit of following him around. Golden clouds against the night sky are not stealthy. At all.

Still, he tries to keep out of Pitch's way as much as he can until, of course, something happens.

They are doing their respective work in Ireland and he takes his eyes off of Pitch for maybe a minute to weave a couple especially intricate dreams and when he looks back he seems to be casually conversing with the Banshee. Keyword: seems. There is the slightest beginnings of a frown a the corners of his mouth and Sandy takes that as his cue to intervene.

The Banshee isn't being too untoward and Sandy figures that Pitch would actually enjoy talking with her if she wasn't trying to get into his robe, so he curbs his more violent impulses and instead just wraps his arms around Pitch's shoulders from behind, resting his chin in the crook of his neck. Pitch casually leans back into the embrace and the Banshee's eyes widen in apparent understanding. She quickly dismisses herself and once she's gone Pitch's lips quirk upwards.

"As touching as your concern is, I could have handled that myself."

Sandy shrugs nonchalantly. Pitch had looked uncomfortable so he figured he'd lend a hand.

"My, how sweet you are," Pitch says dryly, as if he suspects Sandy had an ulterior motive which, to be completely honest, he sort of does, "but I believe we'd best get back to work."

Sandy nods in agreement.

Two weeks go by without any confrontations and Sandy is just starting to think that word of their 'relationship' has spread and things will start to settle down when, of course, he's proven wrong.

They are both busy working when a Rakshasa sneaks up behind Pitch, gripping onto his arm and letting his venomous fingernails dig in slightly, not enough to break the skin, but enough to keep Pitch still.

"Pitch," he grumbles, close enough that his rancid breath brushes over Pitch's neck. He shudders and attempts to recoil without being poisoned and Sandy doesn't even pause to think, just acts.

He quickly tears the Rakshasa's hand away and wraps his sand around his wrist, tugging him back roughly before putting himself between the pair, hands on his hips and eyes narrowed threateningly.

The Rakshasa, as expected, backs off.

"Hmm, usually I have to call up one of my Nightmares to make him leave me alone. You seem to be taking this knight in shining armour thing very seriously." Pitch muses, unable to stop his smile when Sandy conjures himself a sword and shield. "My hero."

Sandy grins in return.

It is the following night that Sandy faces his toughest challenge yet. He turns his attention away from Pitch for a handful of seconds, _why do these things always happen when he's not looking_ , and when he turns back Pitch is just _gone_. He searches the surrounding forest with increasing worry and when he spots Pitch he is standing at the edge of a pond. At the centre of said pond, crooning softly, is an Undine. Sandy has spent enough time around mermaids to know how persuasive their songs can be and the Undine is not much different. She makes soft promises about marriage and children while Pitch stares, transfixed. If he had been a mortal he probably would already be with her in the water.

Sandy doesn't want to hurt the Undine, who's only wish is to get married and have children so that she can be blessed with a soul. He has to be delicate, but he doesn't think the strategy they used with the Lamia and Banshee will put a stop to the Undine's efforts. So he covers Pitch's ears with his hands, blocking her out to the best of his ability, and guides him away.

Once they're out of the forest Pitch blinks rapidly, eyes clearing, and a dark purple flush appears high on his cheekbones. 

"Oh, for the love of Lovecraft." He hides his face behind his hands in embarrassment. "I can't believe that happened."

Sandy gently pats his shoulder, trying to reassure him that it could have happened to anybody.

Pitch slowly brings his hands down, just enough to uncover his eyes and give Sandy a look that's half amusement, half exasperation. 

"In any case, I think it would be for the best if I laid low for a while. I don't think I could handle someone trying to lure me to their side a third night in a row." Pitch sighs expressively. "I'll see you next week, Sandy."

Sandy waves as Pitch sinks into shadow and goes back to work. 

Frankly it's amazing that he manages to give Pitch room to breathe for seven whole nights, although as soon as the week is over he finds himself making his way through Pitch's lair so that he can goad him back to work. The majority of the Nightmares that remain give him a wide berth, although there is one, who he's pretty sure is Pitch's favourite, standing right at a crossroads that stares at him stubbornly when he comes across it. 

He stares right back and creates an image of Pitch over his head, followed by a question mark.

The Nightmare snorts and jerks its head to the left.

Sandy goes left and hears a very faint, " _what are you doing here?_ "

He whirls around but nobody is behind him. It's difficult to tell where the sound came from, but he continues on the path the Nightmare pointed out to him.

"I told you not to bother me anymore."

That sounds like Pitch, and he doesn't sound happy. Sandy cracks his knuckles and picks up his pace.

"Are you a simpleton? _Go away!_ What do you think... You're... Doing..."

There is a muffled thud, like something dropping to the floor, and Sandy doesn't bother fighting his dread as he begins tearing doors open. He finds Pitch behind the third door, in a study of some sort, fast asleep and a startled looking Incubus perched upon his chest.

"Uh... I can explain?"

Sandy doesn't give him the chance, just curls his sand tightly around the Incubus' leg and pulls him away, throwing him up to the ceiling and dragging him back down to hit the ground hard. He then tosses him out of the room and down the hallway towards the Nightmares who'd started making their way towards Pitch at the first feeling of their master's distress. They snort and kick their hooves against the ground in agitation, they'll be able to handle him.

Trash disposed of he turns his attention to Pitch and fretfully makes his way to his side, gently patting at his cheeks in an attempt to wake him up. When that doesn't work he clamps his eyes shut and smacks his hand hard against Pitch's cheekbone.

"Ow!" Pitch's eyes snap open and he rubs at his cheek ruefully. "What in the name of Poe are you doing Sandy? You can't just waltz in while someone's sleeping and..." he trails off, eyes slowly taking in the room, "oh." He shudders in revulsion. "I trust you took care of that?"

Sandy nods curtly and Pitch pushes himself up into a sitting position.

"Apparently word of our relationship has been getting around. Some spirits just don't know when to back off." Pitch rolls his eyes disdainfully. " _Incubuses._ "

Sandy frowns and Pitch taps at his chin thoughtfully.

"You know what this means."

He squints. No he does not. 

"Come on Sandy. Why do you think I specifically sought you out to get Lamia off of my tail? Or why I wasn't opposed to you following me around even though I've been dealing with these spirits for years without help?"

Sandy blinks very slowly, it almost sounds as if Pitch-- but that doesn't make sense, does it?

Pitch sighs dramatically and leans in close. "I suppose I'll just have to spell it out for you." He presses another kiss to Sandy's forehead, then to his cheek, until he finally seals their lips together. When he pulls away he's flushing darkly, but Sandy's pretty sure his own cheeks are bright orange at the moment so it's probably best not to mention it.

"I think it's about time we stopped pretending to be in a relationship and actually entered into one, don't you?" Pitch asks, attempting to sound cool and casual. 

Sandy tackles him to the ground and kisses him in agreement.


End file.
